Friday, May 21, 2010

I've gone a bit queer...

We're getting closer to winter here and the days are getting that lovely golden, low sunlight and the mornings are dark and the night comes earlier each day. I'm fascinated by watching it all. It's not terribly cold but I'm seeing a proper autumn for the first time in a long time. Leaves are turning with foliage displays to challenge New England. Folks aren't as interested as the are in New England, though. The kids aren't making art with the leaves, aren't taking rubbings or paying any attention to the beauty. Hey! Can't you see how fabulous this is? This doesn't happen everywhere you know. Appreciate it!!

With this change comes the mild symptoms of depression. At least I know the signs now. I'm no longer frightened or ashamed of the crazy thoughts that pop into my head. I'm aware that my cave brain is sending out panic signals a little too often. The other night I swear I saw a face in the living room window. I saw it as clear as that "ghost kid" in the scene from Three Men and a Baby. Reality is; for someone to be on the other side of that window, they'd have to put up a 10 foot ladder to peek in. It was all cave brain seeing dangers and triggering fight or flight responses. Every wisp of hair across my neck is spider, every hiss from the heating firing up a snake. Is that a mole? did I always have mole there? Is it cancer? Is that my phone ringing? Is someone crying? Did you call my name - I just you heard you call my name. Is this meat off? Does it smell funny? I better throw it out just in case...now I have nothing to cook for dinner.

I was drying Sassy's hair last night, looking at her, and could hear her saying nasty things about me even though her mouth wasn't moving. I could hear sarcastic mumbling in my head. I stopped once and asked "Did you say something?" confused, she said she didn't. Of course she didn't!! You could see her face! She wasn't saying a thing you psycho!!

Chill out. Relax. Deep breaths. Rationalize. Better. I can laugh about the absurdity of it now. Reminded of the story of the woman who suddenly thought she had not paid the mortgage yet, looked at the bank balance and knew she didn't have enough money this month for the mortgage and began to see herself homeless and her children taken away from her, her husband leaves her because this was the last straw and her house is repossessed...reality is she'd paid the mortgage the week earlier*. This cave brain is a beast!

For a couple weeks now I've had this urge to shave my head. I have no clue why, but I've looked at my reflection and just thought "Why do I need hair? Just shave it off. I'd rather wear a hat." It's such flawed thinking, but it's recurring. I try and satisfy this urge by shaving my legs. Shaving my arms and underarms. Tweeze my eyebrows but it's not the same. I wonder what the sun would feel like on my scalp. I wonder what the breeze would feel like. I wonder if my ears would look enormous.

I have electric clippers. I could do it. It's only hair. It'll grow back. New beginning. Fresh start.

Step back. relax. consider the consequences. Rationalize. What the fuck are you thinking about?!

I wonder, if people like Mark David Chapman and John Hinkley Jr. and Britney Spears take a moment to think: What the fuck am I thinking?! Could I live with the consequences of those actions? Why am I having these thoughts? Perhaps if they did question themselves they wouldn't be where they are today.

I also have been thinking about femininity and how it seems so narrowly defined to childbearing age but really being feminine is about being a woman. A woman should be able to be bald and still be feminine. A woman should be feminine at every age, from birth to geriatrics. Elderly women are often denied their femininity because their reproductive parts aren't necessary, so does that render them useless? Is being useless the same as being unfeminine? Why do so many menopausal women take hormones? Do we have to? Does the reduction of hormones mean we aren't feminine? Do a few chin hairs mean we are no longer feminine? Is clinging to youth like Joan Collins the right way to go?

I think that's why I want to shave my head. To see for myself if I'm still feminine even if I'm bald and I have no clue why that particular thought came to me when I could just as easily wear a tuxedo every day and see if I'm still feminine but of course no matter what I do I am feminine because I am a woman. It's not rational thinking - I know this! I know completely that this is random brain babble. I have a wonderful internet friend who's bald and she's amazing and smart and sexy. I only have to think of her and the noise in my head stops. So why does it come back? Why does the issue of femininity keep resurfacing? Obviously there's some issue I'm not addressing. It could be biological clock stuff because perhaps if I had another baby I could still show the world I'm a viable person because I can create viable people. I'm feeling unfeminine and I can't explain why. Brain is making shit up to fill a void and making irrational thinking patterns. At least I know it'll pass. Eventually.

In the meantime I don't want to clean my house. I don't want to cook. I don't want to jog (extra exercise exacerbates the problem). I don't want to be responsible. (Resisting traditional feminine roles perhaps? Rebelling against what exactly? Clean clothes?) I want someone else to do it instead. I'm sure I'm not alone in that bit of irrational thinking. Time to seek out things to make me laugh. Best way to fight this is to make happy chemicals.

*That story was told me by my stress counselor. She was the one who had that particular afternoon breakdown. Highly educated doctor, financially secure and intelligent woman made miserable by this kind of out of control thinking. It's so common, so easily done, so shameful and yet once addressed and  spoken it immediately shrinks and weakens. My stress counselor was an amazing help.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Pictures...

First is of shorty before her 6th birthday party in her fairy costume:

Dressed for her 6th birthday party

She had an awesome party with 20 guests. Great place nearby that does everything. Only thing I had to do was bring a cake and candles. She's still coming down from the birthday rush.

Second is of me because Phona did an unmade-up blogger picture so I thought I would too. I went hardcore: In Sunlight! Showing every flaw (Although I did shower, exfoliate and moisturize)

Unmade Blogger

Third is of the granny square afghan I'm trying. I don't like it much, but feel I should finish it.


Granny squares

Still have a head cold. Actually we all have a head cold now. I'm fighting a sinus infection but don't want to take meds unless I have to but there are some funky colours coming out of my nose.

95kgs.

Slipping into that introspective, private, quiet phase again. Need someone to help pull me out but I'm still in acquaintance stage with everyone here. It's probably my fault. I'm just not socially wired. Actually I was once, but I may have burnt that fuse. It's such hard work.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Don't ask, Don't get

Sassyface has a school trip up to Canberra soon where she'll be away for four days three nights. She's given us a list of things she thinks she'll need:

The camp list

There are the things of necessity, and then there are the things that make me question her grasp on reality. Like four days worth of curry? Two portions of ketchup? The toys list is amusing too where she states "gogos X all" she really thinks she's going to bring over 200 gogos with her?? Candy X 30 makes me think she's going to share with the class but then again she's 10 so let's be realistic. Why does she need 12 keyrings?! And a dinosaur manual - is she expecting Canberra to be Jurassic Park*?

It's been an interesting insight into the mind of my daughter. However that list is going to be greatly edited. Although I should let her pack all of it and then tell her she has to carry the luggage. She can self edit as a life lesson.

*I refrained from the obvious jokes about politicians being modern day dinosaurs. Almost.

Sunday, May 09, 2010

Another crochet...

I ran out of green wool. So I picked up my yarn bag - I have a yarn bag now that used the be a shoe bag but it's now a yarn bag - and found a roll of this yellow leftover from Sassy's scarf and trawled Mickysmail site for another project. I chose this star pattern which took a bit of internet hunting to find but I'm psyched I did. It was a bit fiddly to begin with but once I figured it out it's been very easy and quick. I have a friend due any day now, I'll whip up a baby blanket for her. Not in this yellow though. Baby's a girl so I can just go straight to the pink. I hope they like it.

Crochet star pattern
Crochet star pattern

I think I'll make some small ones for X-mas tree ornaments, too.

For mother's day I got a NEW CAR! No seriously, we're trading in the sporty Mazda 6 MPS for a sporty Mazda 3 with an automatic transmission so I can drive it too. We didn't know it would be so easy for me to get a license here when we got the MPS, but it was and almost a year later - can you believe we've been here almost a year?! - I'm finding I really will need a car to get around. It's frustrating making the simplest of trips an all day adventure with trams and trains. So Husband is having 5 weeks to speed about in his super speced sports car (Which thankfully we got top trade in value for) before he we get the boy racer hairdresser's new car. In Celestial blue. We could've had a gray car sooner but there's tons of those out there. I liked the bright blue. It'll have all of the mod cons - no empty plastic plugged-over  placed on the panel that say "Cheap bastard didn't want this!"

I'm shitting myself about driving again. I shouldn't! But I've not driven a car regularly for 14 years. I was a great driver, but then it was just me. I've got kids now. Kids have made me a ninny who sits in the passenger seat and stomps imaginary brakes and cringes when other cars drive too close or come from side streets. I see imminent death everywhere I go in a car. I may need to talk to someone about that...

Friday, May 07, 2010

Crochet practice.

I definitely prefer to crochet than to knit. I don't know why but it may be that it's got a lot more freedom to it. I can fuck about with the same loop and make all kinds of weird knots and  it's all good. I don't have to stress about dropping a stitch I just pull out what's wrong and do over and it's not left me with a dread of thinking I have to start alllll over again!  I still struggle to hold the yarn properly and I must admit I don't hold it the way many tutorials have shown me to because I can't figure it out, but I seem to have found my own way.

This is leftover green from Sassy's school scarf. I'm just doing rows of single, double and triple crochet on repeat. It's neat enough to impress me. I'm sure any Granny will look at it and think "Aw, bless." but I'm proud enough. sure it's a bit bigger at the beginning for some reason. I think I'll just add a few stitches at the end and tell folk it's a kayak paddle scarf.

Crochet practice
Crochet practice

Thursday, May 06, 2010

Bra Burning, Cheeky Brats and Twitchy Rectums

I was walking the kids up to school this morning when I realized I'd forgotten to change from my sleeping bra* - a Sloggi spandex, lite support crop top - to my daily underwired support bra. Although I wasn't bouncing about freely for the world to see, I was uncomfortable enough to know this is not how women of a certain size should go about their daily business.

I romanticize the origins of Feminism being in the 60's when the free loving, birth control pill taking Hippies were stripping off their societal oppression garments and burning them in an oil drum. Freedom to bounce - hooray! But I have to say - bouncing breasts are painful!

The bra is a woman's friend. It's a liberation garment. We can run, play and enjoy many more activities because we aren't suppressing our movements due to painfully bouncing breasts. Feminists burning bras? Nope, sorry to say but that was a dumb thing to do. We should hold bras aloft and thank the inventors for liberating us from corsets. You want to burn something - burn a corset. Tortuous devices those things. A bra is a woman's devoted friend and encouragement to get out and live.

Besides, I believe the Suffragettes were the better Feminists.

* It's a habit I got into while breast feeding as it stopped me from soaking the bed. I keep it as I find it's much more comfortable and I don't roll over and pinch myself under my elbow. I'll let you suss out the visuals.

After taking the kids to school I got back home to start a few chores, bake a coffee cake and practice my crocheting skills. I go to start a load of laundry and find this:
Daughter's note

Cheeky brat! In a cartoon world I'd present her with a sodden notebook smelling of fabric softner. Instead I sent her this for her to find when she gets home:

Daughter's slob pile.

Starting the Dreaded Day 2 (for male folks, that's the second day of the menstrual cycle, notable for it's crampy intensity and grouchy inducing mayhem) and you know how sometimes you get a weird muscle spasm that doesn't hurt but just twitches randomly on repeat? I often get one in my right eyelid and above my right ear for some reason. It's bad enough that whenever it happens my first thought is "SPIDER!!" but today I got one a few inches up my jacksy and it's kind of weirding me out. Ever happen to anyone else? Anyone? Just me...? Ok.

Sunday, May 02, 2010

I'm not Anti-Marshmallow

I prefer my cocoa without marshmallows, that doesn't make me anti-marshmallow.
I prefer my curry without tamarind, that doesn't make me anti-tamarind.
I prefer loafers but that doesn't make me anti-boots, anti-sneakers or anti high heels.
I prefer cumulus clouds but that doesn't make me anti-cirrus.
I prefer Saturn but that doesn't make me anti-Mars, anti-Venus, anti-Jupiter, anti-Mercury...you get the picture.
I prefer Emu eggs, but that doesn't make me anti-Ostrich egg.
I prefer Autumn but that doesn't make me anti-Spring.
I prefer porridge but that doesn't make me anti-muffin.
I prefer Rodin but that doesn't make me anti-Buonarroti.
I prefer alone time but that doesn't make me anti-social.
I prefer Ethics but that doesn't make me anti-religion or anti-Jesus.

I'm tired of religious people saying Ethics classes are classes in killing God